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I have been dreaming if writing a book with these two characters as two protagonists. |
My Reoccurring Dream 9 "As a newly appointed Liaison faerie, you must report to The Liaison Front Office for duty." "The Liaison Front Office? Yes, sir. Right away, sir." "Sir?" Irritated from being pulled from her schedule, she snapped, "What is it, Norric?" "Where is the Liaison Front Office ?" "Where is the. .? The Liaison Front Office currently resides at the Snow Dwelling. If you failed Beginners Sanskrit for Gnomes, it's on Klantoka Mountain. You are dismissed." When Norric returned to his Mushroom Niche, he marveled at the magicks the Titania Academy of Magicks and Higher Academics had in place. While Norric was shorter than the average elf, not measuring over six wings tall, everyone was the same height due to the Normalcy Spell cast over the academy. There is also a Passivity Spell. No one has the urge to follow their instincts to eat or attack others while on the academy grounds. Isn't Magick incredible? As he prepared for his departure, some unwelcome faeries arrived to taunt him, as usual. "Well, look who came back from receiving his assignment. Ol'ThistleBottom himself. Going anywhere important?" Smirked Blackberry Silverglitter, a mean-spirited Naiad. "I bet he will be the Lead Inspector for all of the Fey Hills." Scoffed Petal Cornleaf, a Brownie. "No, I know. Norric will be the Queen's representative to the Seelie Court." Snorted an Elf named Solara of the Wildshine sarcastically. Staring straight at him, the Elf Tiana Dimpleshine sneered, "I got it. He didn't pass and must retake all his lessons with the baby faeries." With the last comment, all four faeries sauntered out, giggling, leaving Norric alone with a red face. "Don't let the freaky foursome bother you. I know you passed. I know you passed with the highest marks in our class. Probably the highest in the history of the academy. Why didn't you say Something?" "Oh, hello, Phorus. They wouldn't have believed me. They never do. Even when Troll Proctor Bei announced my highest scores in the class, they thought she was kidding. Why am I being sent so far away if I did so well? Shouldn't I have the responsibility that merits prestige or Something? Have you heard of The Liaison Front Office? Also, in my defense, in Beginners, Intermediate, and Expert Sanskrit, nowhere is Snow Dwelling mentioned, especially on Klantoka Mountain. The Proctors didn't cover where it was. Where are you being sent?" "I and two others are going to the Land of Eternal Autumn, between the Dark Forest and the Badlands," Phorus answers pensively. Phorus, having a Da who was a High Elf and a Mem who was a Moon Elf, chose to come to this academy instead of the one his Mem wanted him to go. He was more like his Da, an Elf warrior killed right before Phorus's one hundred fifty-third season by the cursed race. This academy was nestled and protected deep in an enchanted forest. "That sounds like a great place to go, Phorus. Why do you sound glum about it? I'll trade you." "The fey of that region take the Hunt to an extreme. Only through the Hunt are the genuinely worthy left alive. The resulting bloodbath is a cleansing that purges the world of unworthy essence s. Or what they consider unworthy. I understand it is challenging for a faerie to survive more than three seasons." "Wow, Phorus, I didn't know. I am sorry. How soon can you apply for a transfer out of there?" "I need to be there for two seasons, and then I will be eligible for a transfer. I only hope I can last that long. It depends on where the Sector's location is and if it's behind enemy lines." "You do have it worse than I do. When do you leave? I'm going to the Ring tomorrow." "Wow, you are shipping out so soon. I leave next week. Everyone I have talked with is going next week or later. The Front Office must need you there. I wonder what happened to the last inspector." "No idea. You know the command is tight-lipped about those things. I had no idea how long they needed someone. "Changing the subject," Phorus stated, "since we have a New Moon tonight, we must forget about tomorrow and our assignments and enjoy the music, feast, and drink. I hear the Sprites from the Glenn will sing tonight by the Falls. If we hurry, we can get good seats." "You're right. I will come along. We could meet up with others and have an enjoyable time. It would be nice to have a relaxing last night here. Is Gwenyir joining us tonight?" "No. Gwenyir didn't want to be with me tonight." Phorus left it at that, and Norric didn't pursue it. The duo made it to the concert in time to get good seats and ordered the house's unique, chilled Flower Nectar Mead. The evening was hot, so they called for the Flower Nectar Mead several more times. Due to the lack of a constitution of the young faeries, Flower Nectar Mead was quite intoxicating. By the concert's end, both faeries were merry and trying not to show it. "Norric, I need you to tell me something seriously. Be serious." Said Phorus, trying to focus on his friend. "Sure. Anything thing for a friend. You are my best friend, Phorus. I would do anything, anything for you." "Good. You need to tell me, tell me why there are two of you sitting in one chair. Did you drink another duplicating potion from the Dryad? I told you she liked you when you watered her tree." "Shsh! Don't say that. That's not true. Her boyfriend, the Brownie, will hear you and wants to fight again. He nearly stepped on the last poor bloke who upset him. Shshshsh." "Well, now, what do we have here? Two wee lads out on the town unsupervised and slightly under the table." The sound of Mr. Eamon Declan's, Proctor of World Events and Interactive Magicks's, Irish accent with a slight lilt of humor immediately attracted Phorus and Norric's attention. Both tried to function as if they had not drunk any Flower Nectar Mead, let alone five each. Both failed miserably. "I'm surprised yi lads are even sitting upright. Well, partially upright. Yi be steamin, no doubt. Don't worry too much, ladies. But, oft! Yi be hurtin' Something fierce in the marrow." As the old Leprechaun left, he began to laugh to himself. With his head on the table, Norric states, "He's right. We should get back. I still need to pack stuff. I want to send all my belongings to my new residence at Lassie Font Awful, but I still need to sign the waiver on the health policy for new insects. I'll never have time to mediate. medicate. meditate." "It's almost sunrise...Cock a doodle, doo! I'm a bunny! Oh, Shshshshs! Youse can't do too much now. Let's go back, rest, medicate, and when the sun settles, I will help you pack. We will have plenty of time to make it before you have to be at the Ring-a-ting." "Think so? I am not feeling my best right now. Feeling kind of, what's the word ol' Declan used in class a couple of times? Laundry? No, langered." "I feel like I ate too many slug and beetle potpies." "What? That's disgusting. Why would you eat slugs and beetles? What is a potpie?" Phorus answered, "You asked how I felt. That's how I feel. Like that's what I ate, lots of them. All are squiggling in my stomach all at once. We best be getting back. I suddenly feel not so good." As the two were on their way to Norric's mushroom Niche, the four faerie girls who had previously insulted Norric walked by. "Oh, look, ladies," began Tiana, "if it isn't Phorus with his pet beetle. Oh, wait. It's Norric." All four tittered with laughter. Tiana was about to say more before Norric began addressing each in turn. "Why, Blackberry, you have Something on your chin. No, it's your beard." "I thought of you today, Petal. It reminded me to take out the trash." "My dear Solara, I love what you've done with your hair. How do you get it out of the nostrils like that?" Instead of saying anything, Norric walked up to their leader, Tiana, and, using both hands, grabbed her head, kissed her soundly, and said, "The other night was great, but we can't do it anymore. You just weren't good enough for me." Norric turned and said to a wide-eyed Phorus, "We're done here. Let's go. It was a great night, one to remember." Instead of saying anything, Phorus unceremoniously regurgitated his supper, drank at the girl's feet, smiled sheepishly, and staggered after Norric. As they walked to Phorus's niche, Norric waited while Phorus attempted to pronounce his passwords correctly to undo the door's warding locks so Norric could pass unharmed. After several unsuccessful tries, Norric walked through the threshold without providing the correct releasing incantation. "Youse idiot! You could've been 'vaporated by the poofy spell - POOF! Then there would be a big puddle of you on the floor I would slip up on. You made me slip on you because you walked right through the poofy spell." "You nut. You never-ever-never set the poofy spell thingy to go off. You always ferget and go away." "Nuh-uh, not this time. I set it, I did. I remember setting it. I did because I knew I would be inticksication, intoxipediacatide, not sober when I got here, and just wanted to make sure no one was waiting for me when I came back. You know why?" "Because you're a wizard? POOF!" "No. Well, I don't think so. My Mem wanted me to be one. I want to be like my Da. Anyway, the Threshold Alarm would zap anyone, not me. ZAP! POOF! Shshsh. You could have been poofified." "You must have forgotten. Don't worry about it. We're here and safe. Do your meditations, hey, I said it right the first time, and rest for tomorrow. Be over to my niche as planned, and we will finish packing my stuff." Without waiting, Norric turned and left. After watching Norric leave, Phorus walked to his cot to change into his meditation clothes. Upon sitting down, he promptly passed out and fell sideways toward the bottom of his cot. Sometime later, an assailant watching Norric and Phorus enter and saw Norric leave alone. Before entering, three small round objects were rolled over the threshold toward the room with the cot, bumping into each other until they were lost out of sight. After not hearing any noise, the figure in grey is confident no one is awake. After witnessing the gangly youth enter and exit without harm and listening to the duo's conversation, the intruder is sure the threshold trap is disarmed and the occupant is sleeping. This will be an easy twenty-five crowns. When his foot crossed the threshold, the assassin's first and dying thought was, "Wizard." 1839 Words |